[Log] Hit Like a Girl
Who: Madison, Tiriana, Ziglan
When: Day 16, Month 4, Turn 13
Where: Bowl, Telgar Weyr
What: Tiriana annoys a visiting weyrling, and beats the crap out of Ziglan. It's a good day. Really.
Central Bowl
A stony field is the center of this great caldera, the size of which is unmatched at any other Weyr--for the whole complement of all the wings at Telgar could rest comfortably within its towering cliffs. Shaped in a perfect oval, the rock walls seem ideal for keeping the usual chill winds stirring about. The ground is mostly made of pebbles and rocks, some hued the milky shades of old quartz, though there are patches where softer dirt and even trees sprout up from the ground. To the south, the bowl opens onto the living caverns and the Weyrleaders' quarters; the immense entrance to the Hatching Grounds lies to the northwest. Heading southwest will lead one back out into the rocky mountain ranges around Telgar's protective walls. Dragons may be seen, relaxing or fresh from feeding, to the north, as well as the soft lapping sounds of Telgar's lake touching the sandy shore. The Weyrling Barracks, always aflutter with activity, are to the direct west. If you're looking for the 'dutypair' to take you to an outweyr destination, they can be found here. The meadow near the lake is strewn with wild flowers, like little stars of pink, yellow, and white. The ground by the the barracks is quite muddy.
Landing in the middle of the bowl, Madison slides off of Seteth's back and undoes her jacket and tucks it into her bags on her straps. "High Reaches duties." She offers to the young woman who is sulking at the moment. "I'm Madison, Weyrling to Seteth."
Ziglan's heading on through the meadow, cutting a rather crooked and uneven path that's not entirely due to the weight of the crude basket he has slung across his back. Puffing loudly and trudging with his head bowed, the boy looks to be in a world all his own. But as he draws closer to the females and hears the call of fishy-fishy, his head snaps up. A curious squint in their direction follows, but he's quick to dismiss both with a shake of his head and a snort.
The green, at first, receives no notice from Tiriana, but the voice greeting her does, and with more curiousity she glances around at Madison and Seteth, brows knitting. "Tiriana. Telgar's," is her bare-bones greeting in turn. And then: "Fish!" Finally, she gets the answer she wanted, as a bronze firelizard swings down from above toward her, from behind Ziglan. "Stupid 'lizard."
"That's what you get for having a bronze." Madison giggles a bit before she looks over towards the young man. "High Reaches Duties. I'm Madison." She looks over at Tiriana. "Why'd you name him fish?"
Ziglan was expecting a /fish/. Not a firelizard. After ducking to avoid any possible firelizard-head related injuries and straightening, he says so. "That's not," he notes in his most manly of voices, "A fish. 's a firelizard." He's not very tall, but that doesn't seem to bother him as he pulls his bony shoulders upward. The impression he's trying to give, one of him looking down at the girls before him isn't all that successful, but he tries.
"You got a problem with bronze?" says Tiriana, voice cooling quicker as she gives the greenrider an unimpressed look. "You got a problem with his name?" Now she's looking at both of them, scowling, while fish himself, unbothered, glides circles around and squawks once, unmusically, at Seteth, a firelizardly sort of greeting. "His name is Fish 'cause that's what he answers to. Okay?"
Seteth wuffs at the bronze, wafting him with some air. "No, but they're quite independent." Madison says, looking between them both. "Fish is a fine name. Seteth says that she likes it. It reminds her of one of her favorite foods." A giggle comes before she nods to the pair. "So what do you two do?"
The evening is partly cloudy, though when the clouds clear briefly you can see the stars. The smaller Belior winks as a waxing crescent while Timor is a nearly full waning gibbous. A definite wind can be felt and the spring air feels a bit nippy. The ground beneath your feet is wet from the last storm.
"Yeah," Ziglan challenges - after another squinty eyed look at Madison for her question, that is. He shifts the basket some, tipping its mouth in Tiriana's direction so that she see into the open container. A small collection of fish of varying sizes is nestled within it's base. "Those are fish. That-" A jerk of his head to the bronze, "Is a firelizard." Duh. Swinging the basket back into place, the boy can't help but add, "What kinda name is that for a *bronze* any how?"
"Ooh, gee, so glad you cleared /that/ up," says Tiriana derisively to Ziglan, snorting in unladylike fashion. Fish, however, knows when he's being paid a compliment and he croons toward Seteth, just a touch sleazily, as he lands on the ground and sidles closer. Tiriana just rolls her eyes at him and then claims, "My sister named him, all right? And I can't change it /now/."
Seteth swings her nose over towards the boy's basket and gives him a gentle wuffle. "Seteth would like to know if you'll give her a fish." The young rider asks as she looks towards Tiriana, a smile coming to her lips at the challenging tone in her voice. "It's a fine name, you don't have to explain yourself."
Flatly to Madison, "Seteth can go'n get her own. I caught them an' I'm gonna eat 'em." He stares pointedly at the green to emphasize that, as though he's not completely willing to trust Madison will deliver the point herself. Tiriana's comment pretty much confirms -something- for the boy, too, as he offers the girly duo another snort. "Yeah, sure. OK, bye now." A jaunty, irritatingly demeaning wave is offered in their direction - he turns and heads back off into the field with an audible mutter of, "/Girls/."
"And I don't need you reassuring me," Tiriana retorts. "Like I'm some kind of five-year-old or something? I'm older than /you/--dunno why they're even letting you wander off by yourself. " She gives the greenrider a look up and down, and then turns deliberately away, to glower at Ziglan's back and call after him exactly what he is: not something for polite company.
"First off, I'm a rider...weyrling or no young lady." Madison says as she points her finger to the young girl. "And I think you need to go see the Headwoman to see how well she responds to you treating a visiting rider in this fashion." Her eyes turn to Ziglan as he all but insults her dragon. "Id avise you to not do that again." she tells him as well. "Neither of you have any manners. Excellent. I'll be writing to the Weyrwoman here to let her know." She heads back to her dragon and mounts Seteth, who gives a large wuff of air, almost strong enough to knock a person down before she lauches herself into the air.
Ziglan's steps kinda fumble and start - he's surprised, quite clearly - the combination of Madison's threats and Tiriana's version of the truth being equal culprits. He turns, his mouth opened as wide as his eyes, though when the 'Reachian weyrling departs he allows the full of his annoyance to fall on Tiriana. "Girls," he says again, gripping the strap of his fish-basket, "You're all so - geeze, just dumb. Namin' a bronze fish an' then callin' me that?"
"Yeah, have fun with that," drawls Tiriana with a smirk. "My uncle's the Weyrsecond." Even, impertinently, she waves Madison off, then sneers and turns back to Ziglan. "You got a problem with me? Don't make me kick your ass, kid," she tells him flatly.
Weyrsecond uncle. Ass-kicking threat. Ziglan's eyes narrow and a trait he's not quite aware of surfaces. He sticks the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth while trying to decide just how truthful she's being. He calls what he hopes is a bluff. "Liar." Grey eyes pull in the older girl, assessing her in an attempt at figuring out just how bad of an ass kicking might be handed to him.
It's definitely not a bluff. Tiriana's got a mean left hook and she's not shy about aiming it at Ziglan's jaw as she stalks forward the few steps between them. It's followed by a sharp jab toward his stomach, too, no pulling punches for this girl.
Ziglan's eyes widen when she actually calls his call, and he's half in the process of raising a hand and dropping his basket when the fist is spotted. "You're a crazy-" The words die with a pop as his mouth snaps shut, compliments Tiriana's fist. Stumbling back and nearly to his ass, the boy hastily recovers in time to catch the second punch. It doubles him over and colors him a faint shade of green and though he's in pain enough to have him moving stiffly, the boy throws all of his none too hefty weight at Tiriana. Bony as hell, he's liable to make a painful connection with his shoulder as he seeks to carry the girl to the ground. Saying, of course, he doesn't find himself dropped there first.
Tiriana, to her credit, is quick, enough that she can avoid most of Ziglan's shoulder, at least, if not the rest of his weight. She drops down with an off but that's not enough to fight her, as she, well-versed in the art of these backyard brawls, kicks out wildly at his shins and then seeks to roll him over so she can get on top. She aims her fist back for his jaw, on top of the place she's already hit him, while she tries to pins him down, her knees to his shoulders to hold him there.
Ziglan too has far more experience in this field... that of him on the ground with someone bigger and older ontop of him, fists flying and taunts cutting. The boy pulls his arms up to shield his face, risking blows to areas left unprotected. But he's a scrawny thing and there's no end to the twisting and writhing as he attempts to unseat Tiriana. All the while shouting, "Get offa me you crazy slag!" Slag? Must be the hit to the head.
"What were you saying about girls?" snaps Tiriana, sneering as she twines one hand in Ziglan's collar, the other fist still balled in preparation for hitting him again. She's a sturdier thing than she looks, stubbornly fighting to hold her place atop him, eyes narrowed.
If Tiriana were a boy, Ziglan could break the Rule and knee her in crotch. She was a girl, though, and that was the problem. "You're crazy!" He says, his eyes wide and angry, "All you girls are crazy!" The boy is anything but sturdy - being all skin and bones, it's no wonder why. He makes one last effort at shoving her off him - squirming, bucking and just about flailing as though his life depended on it.
Tiriana's smirk broadens, apparently amused, and she aims one last punch to Ziglan's eye to leave him with a nice shiner come morning before she climbs off of him at her own pace, doing her best to make it clear she's only doing that because /she/ wants to, and not because of anything he's done to her. "Maybe you oughta keep your mouth shut, then," she retorts. "And you wouldn't have to worry about the crazy."
Ziglan is, by this point, trying very very hard not to cry. He can handle being beat up when it's boys that do it. But crazy slag-girls just... he rolls onto his side with an audible grunt and sniffle and with an arm clutched around his middle pushes himself to his feet. His fish... his prized fish... are declared a lost cause what with most of their insides being squashed on his back, and the basket left in splinters. "Yeah," he says after a moment, his voice quite tight, "Maybe you oughta go drown yourself now and just save us the trouble." Just like he won't be admitting his shiner came from some crazy girl, he's not about to admit to what he does next: run for his life.
"Could always do you instead," suggests Tiriana, smirk broadening. She actually laughs as Ziglan runs off, and sets about dusting herself off before she strolls toward the living cavern, mood apparently much improved by the scrap.Type your cut contents here.